Barsaat
by The Goliath Beetle
Summary: It's a rainy afternoon when Greece comes to visit. For India, it's an unexpected conversation with an old friend. - India, Greece. Oneshot. Vaguely implied pairings. Historically accurate.-


**A/N: Aph India needs to be a more popular character, I can't take this bias anymore. I have like 400 headcanons for my country and he's not popular enough for anyone to want to read him D':**

 **Okay, rant done. Thanks for listening.**

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There's something about Indian rain. It's not like rain in other countries. Elsewhere, a storm is harsh, dark, cold, gloomy. When it rains in India it sounds like life and yesteryear, and he's always reminded of old movies and sepia-toned pictures, hot chai and khaki clothes. These are random associations, he knows. But the rain here – despite being astonishingly fierce and wild – is somehow gentler. It means something else in India.

 _Barsaat_ , as they say in Urdu. It comes at the end of a terribly harsh summer, and paves the way for winter to amble in. It bridges the seasons and brings with it the smell of growth.

India lives in a bungalow with a verandah that always gets drenched in the monsoon. His garden blooms in haywire ways, weeds and vines and strange moss everywhere. The mud is thick and sloshy. There's nothing to do but deal with it, and he has, for thousands and thousands of years.

Sometimes his past comes calling to him. Unexpectedly.

Today's one of those days.

The doorbell rings, and it's Greece. Splattered in mud, soaked from head to toe, his eyes soft and dull as they are these days – he seldom comes to world meetings, he's usually too sick. Between his economy and the refugees, he's got his hands full. And everyone is mean to him. India can't blame him for keeping his distance.

But what is he doing here in the middle of a monsoon? They haven't spoken to each other in literally millennia.

India lets him in and gives him a towel and a fresh change of clothes. Then they sit at the table by the window, sipping chai and eating piping hot potato _pakoras_ with ketchup. They don't talk. It's hard to find the right words after this much time ignoring each other. (It matters not if their governments have interacted. It's _them_. They're the problem.) Still, it's not exactly uncomfortable. They're both sort of zen, watching the rain, listening to the sound of water rushing down the roof.

Finally, Greece says, "I forgot how lovely it gets here in the monsoon."

India just hums.

"Do you remember that day when we were kids?" he smiles, glancing at India as though his words mean anything.

India shrugs. "Barely. I mean, it was a really, really long time ago."

"Ah, yeah. I can't blame you. But you've got to remember this. We went exploring in the woods and we found that pond…remember? With the tigress and her cubs?"

Of course India remembers that. They'd been frightened at first. India himself had known that a mother tigress was as dangerous as they came. But they kept a distance, and she didn't think they were a threat. So they sat on a rock and watched the mommy sleep as her cubs bit each other's ears and jumped about the undergrowth.

"What happened?" India finally asks, looking Greece in the eye. "I can barely remember why we stopped talking."

"Times changed. Governments changed. We didn't need to interact as much anymore." Greece watches India intently from the rim of his cup. "You got more friendly with Rome, anyway."

"Rome did good business back in the day."

"Do you still remember any Ancient Greek?"

India chuckles. "Of course not."

"You used to be fluent at one time!"

"That was how many centuries ago? Languages live and die in our lands. You're not that much younger than me, so you know that."

Greece giggles. "Do you remember how much we both liked Buddhism?"

Lips curling in humour, India just nods. "All those pretty Indo-Greek kingdoms." His hands fall loosely on the table and he gazes out of the window again. "You make an old man like me nostalgic."

Cold fingers brush against his own. "I miss you."

But that's all in the past now. The sky rains on.

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 **A/N: Greece and India actually had flourishing relations in the ancient times. India was dotted with Indo-Greek kingdoms, the evidence of which we can still see today. Buddhism was nurtured in these places. Greek biographers and philosophers wrote of India extensively, and India was also influenced a lot by Greek art styles (eg: the Gandhara school of art that is dated at 75-50 BC).**

 **While it's canon that Ancient Greece is Greece's mom, I have this headcanon for India that he doesn't remember his parents well. His mom is the Indus Valley Civilisation, whom he doesn't know much off and she remains largely a mystery to him and the world. His father is the Vedic civilization that followed the IVC, but since India has always had many different peoples within its borders, he can't remember what his father looks like, only that the two weren't very close. However, India inherited a lot of his father's legacy and carries that with him, for all its riches and flaws.**

 **"Barsaat" is an Urdu word. (Urdu originated in India. And it's a most beautiful language. So much of Urdu is unwittingly used in everyday Hindi.) The word means 'rain/rainy season'. I've also heard it being used to mean 'downpour'.**

 **Thanks for reading. Please review.**


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